


All in your head.

by Kati67



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:31:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kati67/pseuds/Kati67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is chasing something or someone. Mycroft is concerned for his brother. Why is that? And should he be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea in my head for some time now. I don't know yet if this is going to be it or if I should write aditional chapters. Maybe you should tell me... Please do! :)

‘Sherlock, Sherlock!’ John was screaming. The screaming got louder with every step Sherlock took. It was dark in the streets of London; a dark and misty night. Sherlock didn’t even know which street he was walking on. His orientation was completely off. His footsteps were loud and eerie even, with every step he took. He turned around a corner and heard John screaming again; ‘Sherlock, where are you? Help me, please help me!’

Sherlock started running towards John’s voice; ‘John, where are you! Tell me where you are!’ he yelled. But there was no answer back. Sherlock started panicking; which was something he never did. He stopped only for a minute to gather his bearings. He looked around and tried to see where he was through the thickening mist. He took his phone and tried to phone John. He got a busy signal and tried dialling again. ‘Sherlock, please help me! Sherlock! Aahh!’ John started to scream really loud and Sherlock felt shivers go up and down his spine. He quickly put his phone in his pocket and started running again.

‘John where are you?’ he yelled again. ‘John, John!’ He ran and with every corner he heard the screams of agony from John which made him run even faster until he was so out of breath he couldn’t run anymore. In the distance he could hear water sloshing against the quay and thought for a brief second he must be at the harbour. He stopped to gather his thoughts and his breath and listened to the sounds, the water, John’s screaming. It seemed that the more he ran the further John’s voice was and he thought he was running towards his voice. He was breathing heavily standing against a wall and thinking what to do next. He really was frightened right about now. His phone didn’t seem to work either and he didn’t have a clue what was going on. Sherlock didn’t like that! He wanted to be in control, always.

‘Sherlock where are you? For God’s sake why don’t you help me; SHERLOCK!’ John’s voice was closer now and Sherlock started running again. The mist was thicker than ever and Sherlock couldn’t see where he was going. He screamed John’s name; ‘John, where are you, John!’ Again no answer and Sherlock was feeling hopelessly alone. The cold crept up his body and made his coat damp. He was cold, so very cold and tired. His voice weakened as he was crying: ‘John where are you? John, John, John’

 

‘Sherlock, Sherlock wake up! Sherlock, wake up now!’ Mycroft Holmes was standing next to the bed Sherlock was in and looked down upon his younger brother. An orderly was standing next to Mycroft; ‘I told ya Mister ‘Olmes I told ya he wasn okay’  
‘Yes, alright, thank you, you can go now, I’ll take it from here’ Mycroft almost pushed the man out of the door and closed it firmly. He walked back to the hospital bed his brother was in; ‘Time to wake up now brother. You are dreaming, wake up’

Sherlock opened his eyes which were very puffy and swollen. It took him some time to realise his brother was standing next to him. He sat upright with a sudden realization that he was looking for John and this wasn’t right! ‘Mycroft, Where is John? I was looking for John, where is he?’ Sherlock tried to get of his bed but Mycroft stopped him.

‘Sherlock we’ve been over this before don’t you remember? You were dreaming, you’re dreaming every night about someone named John and you are looking for him. Nobody knows who you are talking about.’

Sherlock’s head swung towards his brother’s and he looked at him bewildered. ‘What are you saying to me? There is no John? Don’t be ridiculous Mycroft, of course there is. He is on Baker Street with me!’

Mycroft sighed as he leaned on his umbrella. ‘Oh Sherlock, really not again; we’ve been over this a dozen times. You have been having hallucinations and for that you are treated in a special ward at St. Bart’s hospital. You have been for about two weeks now and for as long as that you are screaming your lungs out about someone named John, whom I might add, doesn’t exist.’

‘What do you mean doesn’t exist!’ Sherlock jumped up furiously. ‘Of course he exists; Dr John Watson who came to live with me after he came out of Afghanistan and we have been romantically involved since a few months now. What do you mean he doesn’t exist?’

‘It’s all in your head Sherlock, it all was. I have told you all this before but I am happy to tell you again, I am your brother after all and I want the best for you. I have hired the best care and doctors for you but you must stop this screaming. They are calling me every day almost and I really can’t come every hour of every day to calm you down! You don’t want them to give you more calming medication do you?’

‘Mycroft, you off all people must know he is real! You know him, you know me, you know… ‘ Sherlock got tears in his eyes and whispered; ‘You know how difficult it was for me to admit it and how long it took. You of all people should… ‘Sherlock’s voice broke and he started whimpering.

‘Oh for God’s sake, Sherlock’ Mycroft stretched out his hand and patted Sherlock’s; ‘there there’ he said and left the room.  
An orderly came back in with an injection to let Sherlock sleep again.

 

And there he was again; John smiling at him. ‘Hey, where were you? I’ve missed you! Come here give us a kiss eh?’  
Sherlock smiled and put his arms around John. ‘Oh God I’ve missed you too’ he kissed John passionately.

‘Wow where did that come from? ‘ John smiled. ‘Not that I’m complaining or anything! Not in the least! Please go on!’

 

Mycroft was standing next to the bed, watching Sherlock smiling happily when the door opened and someone walked in. He looked up when the person was standing next to him said; ‘How is he?’

‘The same I’m afraid; I don’t know how long we can keep this up. It must be hell in his head right now.’

‘Well, he does seem happy now’

‘Yes now he does, but there are times when it looks like he is haunted. He keeps claiming that he is in love with a Dr John Watson and that they are a couple. I’m not sure what we can do about it’

‘Yes, it’s a shame; he has such a fantastic brain. The things he can do with that. Such a waste really, oh well, nothing much we can do, now is there Mycroft?’

Mycroft looked at the other one and sighed; ‘No I’m afraid not. It is a shame indeed, poor little brother’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is being told there is no Dr Watson. It is all in his head. But is he? And what is Mycroft's role in all of this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I started this story I didn't know if I would leave it with only one chapter or not. But some friends read it and asked me for more.  
> I'm not your typical fanfic writer I get that. Although I like to read smut, I don't write it myself. (not yet anyway) ;)  
> I always have written stories like this, more suspense like ones. I do hope you as the reader like that. 
> 
> love Kati

John woke up to find himself in a completely different place then where he went to sleep. The bed he was in wasn’t his and Sherlock’s. The room was dark and when he tried to get up he couldn’t. He was in restraints tied to the bed. When he tried to shout he started to cough. His mouth was taped and his throat was soar. John started to panic and he tugged and pulled at the restraints. He heard a humming noise and saw there was a camera pointed at him. Because he couldn’t scream he started to make muffled sounds. His legs and arms were bound but he tried kicking anyway. The panic in his chest started to grow. His heart started pounding and he was sweating.

After what seemed hours but was actually no more than ten minutes the door opened and through the crack of the opening some daylight came into the room. John saw a shadow standing in the opening. The door shut behind the person who came in and he came closer. John couldn’t see a thing although his eyes were getting used to the darkness. The man, if it was a man, had a hood on his head and stopped a few feet away from the bed. He looked down on John and shook his head; ‘You are making this a whole lot harder for yourself than necessary Dr Watson’ a muffled voice said.

John couldn’t speak and made some angry noises; ‘Hmm hmm’

‘If you calm down Dr Watson’ the voice spoke again ‘I will pull the tape off but…’ and the voice lowered with a frightening tone ‘I am warning you. Don’t try to scream. We’ve made sure you can’t be heard. Do we have an agreement Dr Watson?’

John nodded; there was little else he could do. Besides, he was so thirsty.

The man came nearer and in one sweep ripped the tape off of John’s mouth. John flinched a bit and licked his sore lips.

‘I gather you are thirsty’ the man concluded and walked to a corner of the room to poor some water. John heard the running of a tap and water pouring into a glass. The man walked back towards the bed and heaved his hand before he spoke; ‘I am going to lift your head now to help you drink. Don’t try anything, please Dr Watson’

How on earth did the man know he wanted to? John nodded again; first he needed to drink the water.  
The man lifted John’s head and let him drink the water sip by sip until he had enough.

John coughed and scraped his throat before he whispered; ‘What the hell am I doing here?’

‘I thought you might have questions’ the man said ‘I just don’t know if now is the right time to answer them’

‘You just can’t leave me lying here’ John started to get mad ‘There are people out there who will miss me’

‘Oh if you mean Sherlock than no, there are not’ the man started to turn around and wanted to walk away.

‘What do you mean he will not’ John felt a knot in the pit of his stomach.

The man turned around to face John; ‘We made sure he will not Dr Watson. After all this is over; he doesn’t even remember you’

John didn’t get the chance to ask anything else; the man shut the door behind him leaving John with his own thoughts and fears.

                                                       

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Mycroft was stepping out of his car outside 221B Baker Street. The minute he wanted to open the door it flew open and Mrs Hudson began raging at him.

‘What have you done to our Sherlock, Mycroft? Where is he? The poor bloke isn’t well now is he? I thought as much him being all pale and not eating for days on end. I said to myself; that man will eventually end up in hospital’

‘Mrs Hudson, will you please step aside so I can enter?’ Mycroft was raising his eyebrow when Mrs Hudson wanted to interrupt him but when she stepped aside he said; ‘Thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I have to get upstairs to get some clothes for Sherlock and rush off to the hospital again’

He ignored Mrs Hudson’s baffled face and walked up the stairs where he shut the door firmly behind him.  
Mycroft took his time to look around in Sherlock’s apartment. Of course he could have let his assistant pack up some clothes for his brother. No, he wanted to make sure there was nothing missing. Eventually Sherlock would return home and he had to make sure Sherlock wouldn’t relapse. He slowly paced up and down touching things here and there, picking up Sherlock’s stuff and putting them back in their proper place. In Sherlock’s bedroom he packed a small suitcase with some shirts and pants neatly folded. One more look around and he walked down the stairs again where Mrs Hudson was waiting for him.

‘Mrs Hudson, do you have a new tenant for the upstairs bedroom?’ Mycroft asked her.

‘How did you know? Mrs H looked at him with her hands clenched.

‘Never mind how, but do you?’

‘Yes I do in fact. He is ever so nice. Michael is his name. I forgot his last name but I have it here somewhere if you need it’

‘That’s quite alright. Goodbye Mrs Hudson’ Mycroft walked out the door and before Mrs H could say anything he shut the door behind him and got into his car.

 

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Sherlock was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep for some days (and night) now. He knew that in his dreams he saw John and that nobody believed him saying John was real and alive. After thinking about it he thought he had to stay calm and not speak of it again. He had to get out of here and find out what had happened. He couldn’t if they kept giving him those damn injections every day. He couldn’t think with all those drugs in his system. So he was calm, did what the doctors wanted him to do. He just couldn’t sleep. If only he could just get some sleep! He heard the humming of the camera in the corner of the room and turned his back to it. He would at least pretend to be asleep. He closed his eyes and thought of the last time he could think of seeing John.

They were at the apartment in 221B Baker Street and they had just had some tea. It was all a bit foggy now but he saw John walking to the kitchen with the teacups smiling, saying something to him. He sat in his chair and…  
He rubbed his eyes. Damn it! It was all so vague now. If only he knew what… And then he remembered something. He remembered the phone call. They rushed out both of them. Dusk was settling in and fog crept up around them. It was a cold evening he thought. Who had called them? If only he could remember that? Was it Greg, Mycroft, a client? He just couldn’t remember. All he knew was it was urgent and they couldn’t get a taxi so they started running and all of a sudden he lost John in the fog. And John started screaming. Oh god, John was screaming. He started to remember. Sherlock sat upright and not to alarm the orderly he went to the bathroom. There he leaned against the sink, his head against the mirror. It all came back to him; Sherlock calling out to John, John screaming for help and him running down the streets of London. It wasn’t a dream. It was all real, he wasn’t crazy… But why would Mycroft say John wasn’t real?

Sherlock looked up at his own reflection in the mirror and saw a pale, hurt man with tears in his eyes. He turned on the tap and splashed water onto his face. As he was drying his face with a towel he heard his brother calling his name and knocking on the bathroom door; ‘Sherlock? Are you alright?’ Sherlock straightened his back looked at his own face in the mirror, took a deep breath and opened the door; ‘Yes Mycroft why wouldn’t I be alright? He said with a faint smile.

Mycroft looked closely at his younger brother and put the suitcase on the bed. ‘I brought you some more clothes, Sherlock’

‘That’s very… brotherly of you’ Sherlock smiled. ‘But I feel so much better Mycroft, there’s no need for me to stay here much longer really. I want to go home soon’

‘I know you do’ Mycroft took a chair and sat down. ‘But… no let me finish, but we all want to be sure this time that you are 100% alright. We don’t want another relapse like the last time, now do we?’

‘How long do you think Mycroft? I do want to go back, I’m getting restless sitting here, doing nothing. My brain rots doing nothing’

‘Not long, little brother, not long’

As Sherlock turned to hang his clothes in the wardrobe, Mycroft observed him closely. He wasn’t all too sure about his recovery. He needed to be absolutely sure. A lot depended on it. His phone vibrated in his pocket; ‘Excuse me Sherlock I have to take a call’ he said while walking out the door. ‘Yes’ he said answering the call.

‘How is he?’

‘Remarkably better’ Mycroft said. ‘He’ll be getting home soon’

‘Good. So we can get rid of Dr Watson?’

‘Oh no, not yet, you might need Dr Watson some more. I’ll let you know. I got to go now but I will be in touch’

When Mycroft walked into the room again Sherlock was just finishing hanging up the last of the shirts. He turned around closing the wardrobe; ‘Fancy a game of chess?’

‘I’m sorry Sherlock I do have to get back to the office. Something came up, raincheck?’

As Mycroft walked out the door Sherlock pinched his eyes and his nose crinkled. He had overheard Mycroft’s conversation and couldn’t believe his own brother would do this to him. He was more determent than ever to get out of there, the sooner the better.  
He had to find John.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is back home for St Bart's and trying to figure out what is happening and why. Who else is going to help him but the ever faithful Molly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it takes a while for a story plot to settle in. It now has unfolded to me (in my brain at least ;) ) I do hope I have stayed true to the original characters though although I have taken the liberty of giving my own spin on them a bit. My main concern is however the grammar and English language (not Americanizing things Sherlock is British after all). So if you find something not right, don't hesitate to message me please! English is after all not my first language. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy the way I write and I hope you will let me know in the comments. Thanks! 
> 
> love Kati

Sherlock was making some tea in his kitchen when he heard a knock on his door. He put the kettle on anyway and slowly walked to the door. He was home now for about a week and he felt like he was being watched with every move he made. He didn’t trust his own brother anymore after what he overheard him saying over the phone in St. Bart’s hospital about John. The good thing about that was he now knew for sure he wasn’t crazy; John was real, his life before the hospital with John was real and although he couldn’t say that to anyone, he knew it was.

He opened the door to find Greg standing there with a grin on his face. He smiled holding a bottle of something in his hand. ‘Hello mate, how are you?’

Sherlock stepped aside to let Greg in and said; ‘Nice to see you Greg it’s been awhile’

Greg Lestrade looked at him and asked; ‘Are you alright Sherlock? You don’t look alright; a bit pale if you ask me and you’ve lost weight haven’t you?’

‘Who are you, my mother?’ Sherlock asked walking back to the kitchen where the water in the kettle was boiling. ‘Tea Greg?’ and not waiting for an answer Sherlock started pouring two cups.

‘Just asking, Sherlock, I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the hospital but Mycroft didn’t let anyone near you. Even now he is careful how may visit you’

Sherlock turned around to look at Greg; ‘What do you mean ‘who may visit me’. He doesn’t control my life I am perfectly able to decide that for myself thank you!’

Greg sat down in a chair (John’s chair, Sherlock thought) and Sherlock sat down across him. He handed him his tea. ‘Do you really mean that? Is Mycroft keeping an eye on me in my own apartment?’ Sherlock whispered.

Greg shifted in his chair before answering; ‘Well Sherlock’ he said averting his eyes ‘I’m not sure erm I don’t think it’s my place to interfere in this’

‘Greg’ Sherlock’s voice was calm but the way he held his hands and the way he tilted his head; Greg knew Sherlock was getting angry.  
‘Is my brother watching me right now?’

‘Yes he is’ Greg Lestrade softly said. ‘I’m sorry Sherlock I don’t like it but you can’t blame him can you; after what he has been through with you?’

Sherlock rose from his chair and walked to his bedroom saying; ‘Goodbye Greg thank you for your concern and don’t let the door hit you on your way out’

 

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Sherlock paced up and down in the room while Mycroft was sitting in John’s chair sipping his tea. It was maddening. He could just slap his older brother if he’d thought it would help.  
‘Sit down Sherlock you wear the floorboards out’ Mycroft said with an icy smile.

Sherlock stopped to look at Mycroft and started to pace again only to annoy him. ‘I need something to do Mycroft. I’m bored out of my skull! And if you don’t stop watching every move I make I will start by killing you!’ Sherlock stopped and turned to Mycroft who just swallowed a sip of his tea and now started coughing.

‘I don’t know what you mean Sherlock’ Mycroft said after he’d composed himself.

‘I know you do Mycroft don’t! You never could act well. And I want it done by the end of the day or I’ll do it myself and I don’t think you will like that!’

Mycroft thought about that for a moment and said; ‘Oh you win little brother I will send someone to take care of that’

‘All of them Mycroft!’ With one step Sherlock’s face was very close to his brother’s and Mycroft felt very threatened suddenly. ‘Yes yes, all of them Sherlock I promise’

 

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John didn’t know how long he was tied in this room now but they finally had untied him and he could walk up and down a little bit in the tiny space. They shoved some food between a crack in the door every day and that was all the contact he had with them.  
The room was still dark and stale and he could hardly move an inch. There was a bed a small sink and the door. In between the sink and the door was a chair screwed to the floor. On the bed there was a pillow and a blanket nothing more. No windows or cracks with daylight, nothing he could try to escape from. He felt hopeless, desperate. It seemed almost as if nobody was missing him. His kidnapper had said something like that too. He couldn’t believe that this would be it, his life. The rest of his life spent in some sort of confinement, a prison basically. John had never felt so alone in his entire life. He wanted so much to go home, to his old life, to Baker Street, to Sherlock. Again he tried scratching at the door with his fingers till they bled. Trying for an opening somewhere. He found none. He sank down on the floor and started sobbing desperately.

 

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After Mycroft and his men were out of his apartment with all the cameras and other stuff they had planted Sherlock finally felt free to do what he wanted again. He pulled out his laptop and searched for whatever evidence of John. John’s blog, it wasn’t there, John’s name in his doctor’s practice, not there; on Google, no DR John Hamish Watson. Sherlock couldn’t believe Mycroft and whoever he had been talking to in the hospital, were able to do all that. Just wipe someone away as if they had never existed. Sherlock closed his laptop after deleting his history and put on his coat and scarf. He walked out of the door and locked it behind him. He went down the stairs and just as he wanted to go out the door someone opened it and walked in. The man stopped, looked up and smiled at him; ‘Ah hello you must be Mr Holmes. I am Michael Morstan your upstairs neighbour how do you do?’ While Sherlock shook the man’s hand he knew he now had to pretend he never heard of the man’s last name. Morstan, like John’s ex-wife Mary Morstan; and if John didn’t exist, neither did Mary he figured. How thick was this web they had made?

‘Well, yes, welcome I guess’ Sherlock said hastily ‘If you’ll excuse me, I was just on my way out’

‘Ah yes of course’ Michael Morstan stammered. ‘I’m sorry I don’t want to delay you but I do hope we can talk some more sometimes. I mean the great Sherlock Holmes as my neighbour! Imagine that!’

‘Yes, imagine that’ Sherlock smirked and closed the door behind him.

He really didn’t know what to think about the new neighbour but it didn’t feel right. The man was slick and he got a weird vibe as he shook the man’s hand. He couldn’t put his finger on it but he didn’t like it.  


Sherlock went to Molly at the lab. Maybe she could shed some light onto all of it. He opened the door to the lab and found a nervous looking Molly biting her nails; ‘Sherlock what on earth are you doing here?’ she said with a high pitched voice.

‘Nice to see you too Molly’ Sherlock smirked. Molly was usually nervous around him but this was ridiculous. She dropped the petri dish she was holding in her hands and it smashed into a thousand pieces on the floor. She stood there looking at it and at Sherlock with a blush creeping up her cheeks.

‘Let’s clean that up shall we?’ Sherlock said taking a brush. He started sweeping the glass and Molly kneeled down beside him.

‘You don’t have to clean up my mess, Sherlock. Oh I’m just so clumsy sometimes’

‘I don’t mind Molly’ Sherlock smiled at her ‘I’m glad I have anything to do after lying in hospital for so long’

Molly started blushing again and looked away. See there was something wrong, Sherlock thought. She couldn’t even look at him.

After he finished sweeping the glass he stood upright and tried to look at Molly; ‘Is there something I should know Molly?’ he softly said.

Molly couldn’t look at him. ‘Molly look at me please; talk to me. I overheard Mycroft over the phone; I know’

Molly turned around and faced him rather shocked Sherlock thought. ‘You know? Oh Sherlock, I’m so sorry’ Molly put her hand quickly on Sherlock’s arm. ‘You know everything Sherlock?’

‘Well almost everything, I have some blanks to be filled in. You wouldn’t want a friend to not know what was going on about his own life would you? I would tell you!’ Sherlock was desperate he would try anything now. He knew he was using Molly but he really was at wits end.

‘Well’, Molly softly said looking round ‘you know about your upstairs neighbour don’t you? Michael Morstan? Well he’s Mary’s brother so it turns out and he has taken John’ Molly was really talking very soft toned now playing with another petri dish as if she was showing Sherlock something she was working on. While she was talking she kept looking up at the upper left corner of the lab Sherlock noticed.

‘Go on Molly’ he whispered looking into a microscope pretending to help her.

‘What do you remember after waking up in hospital Sherlock?’ Molly asked him.

‘Not much I’m afraid, only dreams of John calling my name and screaming for help. I’m not easily scared but those dreams were scary’ Sherlock felt shivers up and down his spine just thinking about those again.

‘Those weren’t dreams Sherlock that actually happened for real’ Molly was sobbing now Sherlock saw looking up at her. ‘They drugged you or rather they threatened me to drug you to be frank. I’m so sorry but I had to. You see; it’s Moriarty again. He has threatened to have John killed and place an assault on one of the busiest tourists’ attractions as well.’

Sherlock didn’t know what to say. He just sat there thinking. He wasn’t crazy for one thing. John was real; he existed. Molly now said so herself. But Moriarty; ‘Moriarty is in prison Molly’ Sherlock growled it almost.

‘Yes he is’ Molly looked at him with tears on her face ‘But he has a whole network outside of prison and now with the help from Mary’s brother…’

Sherlock thought about it for a moment; ‘And what is my dear brother doing about this I may ask?’

‘For now he is doing exactly what the thug wants’ Mycroft’s voice came from the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets closer to the truth of John's kidnapping and Mycroft's role in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it more difficult somehow to let this story unfold to me than the other ones. I don't know how. Sometimes it feels like I'm stuck. It takes longer to write this one. I do hope you enjoy it though and I hope my English is getting better the more I write. :)  
> If you see something not right though, please let me know. Love to read your comments on the story as well. 
> 
> Love Kati

John was used to hardship, roughing it and all that, in the army. But this wasn’t something he would ever get used to he thought. The smallness of the room; always surrounded by darkness; not being able to talk to someone. They shoved his tray in and pretty much ignored him all day. It was his ration for the whole day and he had to make due. John wasn’t someone who’d cry easily but now; now he had cried some lying alone in the dark on his bed. He heard the humming of the camera in the corner and he turned his back to it. He didn’t care one bit if they’d see him cry but somehow he also didn’t want to give them; whoever ‘them’ was; the satisfaction.  
He had finally stopped trying to open the door after his fingernails broke off one by one and his fingers where all bloody and messy. Once someone came in the room and kicked him so hard in the head his head hurt for two days straight. He started to realize it was no use to break out of the room. He had tried to stand ready and catch the person with the food tray off guard but with the damn camera watching him it was no use. He just didn’t get any food that day.  
John sighed; if he only knew who he was dealing with and why! He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he got here in the first place. He felt filthy. He could wash himself at the small sink but his clothes were smelly and dirty. ‘Oy’ John shouted at the camera ‘Could I have some fresh clothes please?’ He waited and there was no response. He sighed again bored out of his skull as Sherlock would have put it. Oh Sherlock if only you were here.

 

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‘Mycroft’ Sherlock looked up to see his brother in the doorway to the lab. ‘You have a lot of explaining to do, brother’

‘Yes’ Mycroft said as he approached Molly and Sherlock ‘But not here little brother. Let’s go for a drive in my car shall we?’ And looking at Molly, who had turned pale he said; ‘It’s alright Molly. He would have found out sooner or later’

Sherlock looked at his brother with suspicion. He didn’t know if he could trust him again. But what other option did he have? Staying alone not knowing wasn’t one anyway. He turned to get his coat and scarf and kissed Molly on her cheek: ‘Thank you Molly’ he whispered and he walked away with Mycroft leaving a baffled Molly behind with her hand on her cheek.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Sherlock asked his brother before getting into his car.

‘Get in Sherlock’ Mycroft said impatiently.

‘I want to know where you’re taking me first’ Sherlock said realizing he sounded like a whining younger brother.

‘I am not in the habit of repeating myself Sherlock’ Mycroft said getting in on his side of the car. His driver closed the door behind him.

Sherlock realized he had no choice but to get in the car next to Mycroft. He sighed; this was just typical behaviour of Mycroft and he hated it.  
As soon as Sherlock sat in the car it started to move. ‘Where are we going?’ Sherlock asked

Mycroft smiled a faint smile ‘Nowhere special, here we can talk’ he said closing the window between their seats and the driver’s.

He turned towards Sherlock ‘I’m sorry little brother for the secrecy and all that but it had to be done this way; it couldn’t be helped’ Mycroft heaved a deep sigh and suddenly Sherlock thought he looked years older. It softened him up a bit though not too much.

Sherlock waited until Mycroft started to talk again. His brother seemed troubled by what he had to say. And when he finally did Sherlock began to understand why.

‘I will tell you everything but you have to promise me not to interrupt until I’m finished speaking and you can ask your questions; which you will undoubtedly have afterwards, alright?’

Sherlock thought for a moment. It was not easy for him not to interrupt his brother but he said; ‘Fine I’ll try’

Mycroft cleared his throat and started talking: ‘A while back a man started working at the office. Nice man, nothing wrong with him but somehow every time a saw him the hairs on the back of my neck stood upright. I couldn’t explain why. He worked hard he knew his stuff and one day he sat next to me at a meeting and while we were having tea he made a remark about my clever detective brother and his doctor friend. I looked at him but he pretended he hadn’t said anything. A few days later at another meeting he made yet another remark about family and brothers and sisters. How great it was that you could always count on your family. I looked at him and he smiled at me with the strangest smile you ever saw. I swear Sherlock it gave me the willies. I know don’t look at me like that, I thought so too, that’s not something I get easily but that man had something about him…‘ Mycroft stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts.

Sherlock looked out the window. They had just left London and were driving around in the countryside. That was lovely he thought he should do that more often if he got the chance. They drove past hedges and cornfields, lonely trees stood in the meadows with sheep or cows. A small brook was searching its way glistening in the late afternoon light. It had been a long time since Sherlock had been in the country. He loved the city but the country had his charm too so he thought.

Suddenly Mycroft started to talk again; ‘When I was alone in my office the man came in and said his name was Michael Morstan’

Sherlock turned his head towards Mycroft away from the window; ‘Michael Morstan’ he said ‘the man who now lives in John’s room’

‘Yes I’m afraid so’ Mycroft sighed ‘He said he’s Mary’s brother and he was sent by Moriarty with this idiotic plan to get the both of them out of prison. I thought they’d all gone mad and I stood there with my phone already in hand to call Scotland Yard but then he showed me the video of John’

‘What video of John?’ Sherlock felt as if he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Mycroft fiddled with some buttons in his door and all of a sudden a screen appeared in front of them. A small TV screen with John’s face on it.

‘Are you ready for this, Sherlock?’ Mycroft asked.

Sherlock could only nod his head terrified at what he was about to see.

The screen flickered and he saw John lying on a bed; hands and feet cuffed and his mouth taped. He was making sounds, frustrated sound so Sherlock thought. So would he if he was tied and gagged like that! The screen flickered again and there was John again on his hands and knees scraping the door with his fingernails until they bled. Sherlock looked away in horror. When he heard a sound coming from the screen he looked up again. John stood behind the door waiting. In the corner of the screen he could see how long he was there. The whole day, the whole day without food are they kidding? When the screen flickered again John sat on the bed and the door opened and a tray was shoved inside. John ran towards the door but got kicked in the head and fell onto the floor where he stayed, head in hands bleeding. Then he stumbled to the small sink and washed his hands and head. Sherlock could see the dirt and his shoulders shaking. He was crying Sherlock thought and he felt his stomach cringe at the thought of John’s suffering.

‘Stop it Mycroft, shut it off, please’ Sherlock looked away he simply couldn’t watch anymore.

Mycroft stopped the video and the screen disappeared again.

‘They had taken John and took him to God knows where and wanted to hold him there for as long as it took to deliver Mary and Moriarty to them’

‘That’s absurd’ Sherlock turned his face back towards the window ‘just absurd’

‘I know it is but there’s more. They wanted us to drug you and Mrs Hudson so that the both of you couldn’t remember John and us to play along with it. Michael would move into John’s room to keep an eye on everything. I said I wouldn’t do that, that’s just torture! But they would kill John and place an assault on one of London’s biggest tourist attractions. Not only John’s life was at stake but of thousands of others as well.’

‘And my mental health didn’t bother you one bit, now did it’ Sherlock’s eyes filled with tears of anger. ‘Not to mention what we’ve just say, what they did to John’

‘Sherlock we were assured it was all perfectly safe and we insisted Molly could check everything and I didn’t know they would hurt John’

‘Ah well, that’s a relief, assured by the biggest criminals of all times, that’s a big help!’

‘I understand you are angry’ Mycroft said ‘I know you feel betrayed. But what did you want me to do? They have John!’

‘Yes, and we have Moriarty and Mary’ Sherlock almost shouted.

‘Ah, yes as for that…’

‘Don’t tell me we don’t have them anymore, Mycroft’ Sherlock looked at his brother in anguish. ‘They still have John!’

‘Ah well yes’ Mycroft stammered ‘They do and we have always felt very strongly about not negotiating with terrorists but after this morning’

‘What happened this morning?’

‘A bomb went off in a sightseeing tour bus. Luckily not many people were on there it could have been much worse. The next is supposed to be in a train or metro station.’

‘You’re not giving in Mycroft! What is Lestrade doing about it? And why haven’t you called for me?’

‘I have Sherlock that’s why you’re here now. I’m bringing you to him as we speak, just as he asked me to do’

And before Sherlock could say anything else the car stopped, the door on his side flung open and he felt a sharp pain in his right arm. The last thing he could hear was Mycroft saying; ‘That wasn’t necessary now was it’

And all went dark before his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's waking up to find an old friend is helping him in his search for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of this Sherlock Fic. I hope you enjoyed this fic and my writing as a whole. 
> 
> I would love to read your comments on my work. 
> 
> Love Kati

Sherlock heard muffled voices in the distance as he came to. His head was hurting as if he had too much to drink the night before but he was sure he didn’t drink at all. He tried to open his eyes and when he sat upright he did so with a load moan. The fog was starting to clear in his head and he saw his brother walking towards him.

‘Don’t get up too soon Sherlock’, Mycroft softly said putting his hand quickly on and off his shoulder.

‘What happened to me?’ Sherlock held his head while leaning with his back to a chair. He felt awful but the headache was slowly disappearing.

‘Maybe I can explain that?’ he heard a woman’s voice saying.

No it couldn’t be could it? His sight was still foggy and clouded but he could hear the heels of women’s shoes ticking on the floor, coming closer.

‘Hello Sherlock, lovely to see you again. Sorry about the drugging bit though but that’s a lot better than the alternative trust me’

Sherlock looked up to see Irene Adler standing there next to Mycroft looking down on him.

‘Irene’, Sherlock simply said.

‘Oh poor sod, it isn’t easy for you now is it’ Irene took a chair and sat down next to him. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about all of it Sherlock I am! That’s why I offered to help where ever I can’

‘Help how?’ Sherlock shook his dark curls to clear the fog. He needed a clear head for this, for John. John needed his help now more than ever.

‘Mycroft told me everything. He was supposed to bring you to Michael now wasn’t he? Well you’re not going; we made it look like someone else took you to stop that from happening to oppose Moriarty so to speak. Mycroft can expect a call any minute now I think’

Irene hadn’t finished her sentence or Mycroft’s phone started to ring.

‘Well see?’ Irene triumphantly said nodding at Mycroft to pick up.

‘Yes’ Mycroft answered his phone and he then said: ‘Yes’ ‘No’ ‘Right’ ‘let me…’ ‘And…’ before he could get a word in. ‘If you just could let me speak please; thank you. We got pushed off the road and someone forced the doors open and took Sherlock at gunpoint’ ‘No I don’t know who’ ‘Yes fine’

Mycroft put his phone away and looked at Sherlock and Irene. ‘He’s quiet mad I’m afraid’ he said with his ever calming self. ‘It’s a good thing we got Mrs Hudson to a safe house in time. Time to work on our strategies I should say’

                                          

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Michael Morstan was walking around frustrated, stamping his feet on the wooden floorboards. His plan should have worked. Why didn’t it work? What had he missed? His brother in law would be pissed, he thought. It was a good thing he was still imprisoned or Michael would be dead by now. God it was maddening to think he had let Sherlock got away.

‘Sir, it’s time for his dinner. Shall I bring it to him?’ A man came into the room to ask about John’s dinner.

‘Fuck off’ Michael shouted and threw the first thing he could find which happened to be an ashtray at the man’s head.

The man ducked and disappeared. Michael yelled some more stamping his feet to stop suddenly. Wait a minute he thought. We still have John!

He walked out the door into the kitchen. ‘Where’s his dinner?’ He shouted ‘I’ll bring it myself’

Michael took the tray and carried it to the room where John was being held. ‘Open the door’ he barked to one of Moriarty’s thugs.

He walked in the muggy dark room and couldn’t breathe for a moment. It was smelly and filthy but most of all very dark.

He put the tray on the small table by the bed where John was laying and pulled up a chair.

‘John’ he scraped his throat ‘How long do you want this to continue? Because this can all be over today if you want it to’

Slowly John turned around and looked at Michael with hollow eyes. He said nothing but just laid there looking.

‘I can assure you it can be. You can go home if you want. Just do me one favour just one tiny favour. I will dial Mycroft’s phone and you’ll talk to him, assure him he must do whatever I say he must do. We have Sherlock you know; you don’t want him to get hurt now do you?’

Michael knew very well he couldn’t threaten John with Sherlock if he didn’t have him but he only had to look at John to see the effect of his words. The fear in John’s eyes for Sherlock’s life was very real. Finally John nodded and very faintly whispered: ‘Alright’

Michael took out his phone and dialled Mycroft’s number. ‘Mycroft I have someone here to talk to you and only you. You know what will happen if you don’t do as we say don’t you? Good chap!’

Before Michael handed the phone over to John he put a finger over his mouth: ‘Be careful what you’re saying to him. I’m here the whole time, don’t mention Sherlock or…’ Michael made a gesture with his finger over his throat as to cut his throat or in this case Sherlock’s or John’s. John nodded again and took the phone in hand ‘Mycroft’ he whispered

‘Oh thank God John’ Mycroft said ‘Are you alright? How are they treating you? Oh I know you can’t say, sorry’

Despite feeling miserable John smiled a bit it felt good to hear someone familiar again. ‘I’m hanging on Mycroft’ he whispered ‘Please get me out of here’

‘We try to John, trust me, WE are’ emphasizing ‘we’ hoping John would understand. ‘Even Irene is here to help US’ again emphasizing the word.

‘Really that’s great and I know you all are’ John said ‘you know you must do everything they want you to do, don’t you? Even the Vatican Cameos if necessary’

John could hear a sigh of relief on the other side when Mycroft said; ‘Yes yes we know we will of course we will John don’t you worry, soon’

John smiled as he said; ‘Good thank you Mycroft goodbye’ and as he handed the phone over to Michael he suddenly felt he had an appetite again and started eating his dinner.

                                                 

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Irene came from the other room as Mycroft hung up the phone and Sherlock asked: ‘And how did he sound to you? Did he really say Vatican Cameos? So he knows I’m here. Good good. Damn we need to get him now Mycroft. Does Greg have any lead what so ever?’

‘Greg doesn’t but I have’ Irene said waving here phone ‘my contact followed Mr Morstan leaving Parliament and saw him drive right up the M4 towards Reading. He stopped at a quiet country lane at a deserted cottage. My contact stayed there and I’ve already called Scotland Yard’

Irene hadn’t finished her sentence or there was a knock on the door. Irene winked at Sherlock: ‘don’t worry you’re pretty little head. Wrinkles are so unbecoming of you, love’ and opened the door for Greg Lestrade who ran in all reddish.

‘Ah inspector detective Lestrade let’s go’ Mycroft said

‘Wah?’ Lestrade opened and shut his mouth again.

‘Oh for god’s sakes Greg we did all the work again now let’s go and arrest someone now will you?’ Sherlock pulled Greg’s arm and ran out the door.

‘Wah?’ Greg said again running after Sherlock, Irene and Mycroft.

‘Get in Lestrade we fill you in’ Mycroft said getting into his car.

Thank god the rush hour was already over Sherlock thought. They must have violated every speed limit there was. But with one police car in front and one after them it probably wouldn’t matter.

It wasn’t before long they arrived near Reading at the country lane where Irene’s guy was waiting. Irene got out and talked to the man.

‘He’s still inside’ she said walking back to Sherlock and Mycroft.  
Greg was giving orders to surround the cottage.

‘I really don’t care what you are doing Greg but I’m going in for John’ Sherlock said in a calm voice

‘I know Sherlock but let us please do the rest alright? Be careful is all I’m saying’ Greg looked at Sherlock ‘Right let’s go Sherlock you’re with me’

                                               

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John was lying on his filthy bed his hands folded behind his head when he heard a rumbling noise. He sat upright and listened. There it was again. Not only the noises from the man guarding him but something else; rustling outside the building scraping noises inside and all of a sudden shouting and guns firing. John noticed he was holding his breath. Where they here to rescue him? He wanted to scream but couldn’t because he hadn’t spoken for so long now. He just sat there and listened to the screaming and running around. He got off of the bed and tried to open the door again. He banged on the door. Here I am, please let me out. At first he whispered it but then he talked out loud: ‘I’m here! Help me!’

‘John, John where are you? Tell me where you are? Please!’ Sherlock shouted

The damn house was bigger than he’d thought. More rooms and in none of them was John.

‘Sherlock where are you? Help me! I’m here’ John coughed his voice not used to shouting anymore

Sherlock started to panic. He could hear John but where was he? ‘John bang on something. Maybe it’s a hidden door or something. I can hear you, please keep calling I am here.’

John heard Sherlock’s voice and started to calm down a bit. He grabbed the chair and smashed it to the door. It left him with two big wooden chair legs and he grabbed them and banged on the door with them. ‘Sherlock here, here I am’

Sherlock turned around towards the noise. Behind him Michael Morstan was getting handcuffed and three others as well.

All of a sudden John heard a gun firing. Whose was it Sherlock’s or someone else’s? ‘Sherlock? Sherlock talk to me’

There where two guns still firing he heard. He banged louder on the door. Only to stop until he heard Greg Lestrade yell: ‘Sherlock get down now’ and another gun firing.

It was silent again very silent. John put his ear to the door to listen. ‘Sherlock’ he whispered ‘Are you okay?’

After what seemed hours but was only minutes he heard someone banging on his door and he stepped back. The door swung open and there he was: Sherlock.

They just stood there not being able to trust their eyes. And then both flew in each other’s arms.

‘I’m sorry I’m filthy’ John whispered ‘Watch your coat’

‘I don’t care’ Sherlock said ‘I’m never letting you go again. I’m sorry’

‘For what?’ John asked

‘For all this’ Sherlock held John at an arm’s length to look at him but he didn’t let go. ‘They drugged me, wanted to make me believe you didn’t exist in my life.’ And after seeing John’s face he added ‘I didn’t believe them by the way so don’t you worry’

‘He really didn’t you know’ Mycroft said walking in ‘Good to see you again John. Shall we go out of this place?’

‘Oh god yes’ John sighed

‘I’m never letting you out of my sight’ Sherlock smiled looking at John. ‘After you’ve had a proper bath that is’

John laughed and held on to Sherlock tighter than he’d normally would. Never letting go sounded good to him.

© KH


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